Raphael's Dragon

Chapter 5: Outside the Box

The Bunker, Aloha Emporium. April 21, 2005. Thursday.

"Which airline flies to Roswell?" Mozzie demanded. "I must leave for New Mexico immediately."

Neal sighed. Enough with the space aliens.

Janet had called Neal at work with an appeal for help. Mozzie insisted on returning to his bunker. Janet argued it was much too soon but was unable to control him. Although physically he'd recovered, his memory still hadn't returned. Faced with an increasingly agitated abductee, Neal made a hasty call to Billy at the Emporium. When Billy declared he'd be happy to keep an eye on him, the crisis appeared to be resolved. Mozzie was overjoyed at the news and Neal promised to stop by and see him after work.

Mozzie continued to stare intently at a webpage displayed on his computer monitor. "Look at this!" He jabbed with his index finger at a paragraph on the screen. "He's had remarkable success after only one session."

"Who? What kind of session?" Neal studied the webpage. The banner title was "Third Contacts and You."

"It's the only way!" Mozzie spun around in his chair, his eyes red-rimmed from excessive monitor staring. "I haven't been able to access my memories from the abduction. There's a shaman in Roswell who's had remarkable success with peyote." He tapped his temple. "The truth is in here. I simply need to extract it."

Neal stared at him with dismay. "Not by going to Roswell. Have you considered that you're subconsciously blocking the memories because you're focusing on them too much?" He reached over and closed the browser. "Come and sit with me while I have my dinner. Have a glass of honey wine." He didn't wait for an answer but went over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle, choosing the health blend. He spun Mozzie in his chair to face the worktable and shoved him next to it.

Neal took a seat on the other side of the table. "Henry was at the office today." Mozzie still wasn't focusing. His eyes were already drifting back to the computer. "We discussed Nazis and looted masterpieces all morning." That did the trick. Mozzie snapped to attention, his eyes brightening. "Peter had asked me on Monday what I knew about the Braque painting, and I told him."

"Not that you stole it!"

"You know I can't do that. I simply talked about the painting itself. He asked about the painting's history, and I feigned ignorance. Little did I suspect that I actually was ignorant." Neal paused. Despite everything that had happened, it still hurt to admit it. "Klaus played me."

"What?"

"You heard me the first time."

Mozzie shook his head. "That's not possible. You aren't thinking clearly."

This coming from a man who thought little green men had abducted him? "You better reserve your opinion till you hear what happened. I never told you how we stole the Braque. I'd only been working with Klaus for a couple of weeks. He decided we should steal a painting together as a training exercise. Klaus told me he knew a family who had an excellent copy of a Braque hanging in their house. They were friends of his parents. Klaus himself had visited their house several times. Since it was a copy, he figured the family wouldn't bother reporting the theft, and he was right."

"So you didn't realize you were stealing an original?"

"That's right. The house was in Oberammergau, Germany. Klaus's family owned a ski chalet there. We visited the place in the summer when no one was there. As far as I know, the theft was never reported to the police."

Mozzie nodded. "The family probably assumed it was a teenage prank."

"Most likely. Klaus took possession of the painting afterward. He had me working on so many projects, I didn't think more about it. Then a month or two later he requested I prepare a copy to practice cubist techniques. Once I started studying it, I became convinced that what we had was an original Braque. I asked Klaus about it, explaining my reasons, and he agreed."